


Pent-Up Aching Rivers

by Foophile



Category: Prison Break
Genre: Borrowing kink, Living Together, M/M, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 09:34:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5962510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foophile/pseuds/Foophile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lincoln was wearing the shirt (if the two buttons he managed to fasten could be called ‘wearing’) when Michael returned from a dinner meeting.</p><p>Originally written in 2009 for Round 12 of Rounds of Kink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pent-Up Aching Rivers

When Michael came home to discover that Lincoln went through his things he was only moderately angry. It’s not like he didn’t expect his big unemployed brother to go through his house looking for god knows what just for the hell of it. Lincoln got bored easily and Michael would want him in the apartment rather then on the streets getting into trouble.

But when Michael came home and found that not only had Lincoln gone through his things, but he also reserved “special” items for torture, Michael couldn’t find the words to accurately describe his rage.  
__________

The first item was given to him by an old college girlfriend. She’d had good, if somewhat stilted intentions when she bought the pink polka dot dress shirt. Pink was his color, she said, and while pink polka dot surprisingly did nothing for his complexion, she’d turned into a horny octopus whenever he wore it and for the duration of their relationship he complained very little.

Lincoln was wearing the shirt (if the two buttons he managed to fasten could be called ‘wearing’) when Michael returned from a dinner meeting. After doing a double take, Michael turned the light dimmer to high and put his keys in their designated bowl.

“If you wanted to borrow it you could have just asked.”

Lincoln shrugged a shoulder, the cotton stretching over smooth muscle. “I don’t know. It’s not exactly my color. But apparently it’s yours.”

Michael ignored the jibe. “Don’t know how you could have seen anything sitting here in the dark.”

Michael crossed the living room and loosened his tie. Glancing over at Lincoln on the couch, he both thanked and cursed the fact that his brother stayed away from his dress pants. Lincoln’s jeans were loose but perfectly worn to hug his thighs. His splayed legs stretched the denim over his crotch and strained the buttons at his trim waist.

Michael could just see Lincoln’s tanned stomach, and as the seconds stretched on he forced himself to look away before Lincoln finished thinking up his witty retort. Unexpectedly, he felt hot and unbuttoned the tight collar of his shirt.

Lincoln was watching him with laughing eyes when he finally said, “Of every prissy designer, gay as hell thing I’ve seen you wear, this is by far the worst. Where did you get this one, Metrosexuals-R-Us?”

“I’m surprised you even know the term.”

“Hey,” Lincoln scoffed. “I read.”

Michael smiled. Dinner was sitting heavy in his stomach but he headed for the kitchen anyway wondering if Lincoln had managed to feed himself.

At the threshold, Lincoln breezed past him sans shirt and tossed the fabric behind him. It fluttered to Michael’s feet, the specialized tag his girlfriend had sown for him, “To Michael, From Gloria”, hanging by a thread.

“I’m cooking spaghetti,” Lincoln said over his bare shoulder, “Wouldn’t want to get anything on the shirt that you wouldn’t notice to wash off later.”  
_________

The second item, Michael’s Cartier cologne, wasn’t something that he hid so much as kept safe in seclusion. It was an embarrassing expense, a very rare splurge item that he couldn’t resist after smelling it on a colleague. Simply put, it made him think of the lavender and coriander incense his mother used to burn in their apartment at night. Mixed with the scent of patchouli he remembers drifting upstairs from the used bookstore at the base of their building, the cologne reminded him of all of the best things about life before his mother died.

It also contained scents, like Lincoln’s distinctive leathery smoke-laced musk, that seemed to be a part of Michael’s very soul.

So, when he smelled the seldom used cologne on Lincoln one morning, Michael wondered for a second if he was still asleep.

He stopped Lincoln with a hand on his arm as they switched places for the bathroom. Michael didn’t intend to sniff the air so obviously but couldn’t control the impulse.

“What-,” Michael paused to lick suddenly dry lips. “Is that my cologne you have on?”

The musk seemed to enhance the clean scent of Lincoln’s damp skin and Michael found himself at once starving of thirst and slightly salivating.

“I ran out of aftershave and was looking for something that didn’t smell like that Old Spice you wear all the fucking time,” Lincoln explained as if Michael wasn’t still touching his arm, his thumb very slightly stroking.

“I do not wear Old Spice,” Michael said, taking an alarmed step back when Lincoln leaned in dramatically to take a silent whiff. The tip of his brother’s nose just brushed his shoulder and Michael shivered.

Lincoln retreated a few inches and made a face. “No, apparently you don’t.” Michael had yet to take a shower; he barely clamped down on a pout. Lincoln continued, a grin tilting his lips. “But you don’t wear this either.”

Michael felt the need to explain. “Only on rare occasions. It’s not cheap.”

Lincoln narrowed his eyes and Michael let the implication stand as he retreated to the bathroom. He hoped Lincoln would be dressed and on his way to the drugstore for the Axe he always wore by the time Michael was done.

When he emerged a handful of minutes later in a towel, clean shaven and showered, Lincoln was waiting for him with the aqua blue bottle. But instead of giving him it back, he sprayed Michael about his bare shoulders and chest liberally. Michael sputtered, trying to bat him away.

“What the hell, Linc?”

Lincoln took a deep breath. “Veronica once told me that a person’s body changes the scent. What smells one way on someone can smell completely different on another.”

Michael considered the truth of that long enough to realize that a barely clothed Lincoln had moved back in to sniff his neck. He stepped away to gather his wits.

“You two used to talk about body fragrances and you call me gay?”

Lincoln’s body was so warm compared to Michael’s damp skin. He blamed the condensation for the way his nipples tightened to hard peaks and his stomach clenched and unclenched. When Michael’s cock stirred to life under his towel, he knew that it was entirely too early for interactions with his tease of a brother.

“Veronica used to say that she liked the way I smelled,” Lincoln continued. “She said I smelled the way a man was supposed to smell.”

Michael cleared his throat. “Good for you.”

Lincoln’s hands came up, his fingertips brushing the rough fabric of Michael’s towel before they fell back to his sides.

“Funny how this still smells the same even with you wearing it.”

“I haven’t really had the chance to wear it for long." He wondered why he was still participating in this frustrating conversation when he had work in less than an hour and then accidentally bumped his thigh into Lincoln’s. He glanced down and noticed that Lincoln was half-hard under his towel.

Immediately, he looked back up and unintentionally honed in on the sheen of his brother’s biceps. Michael looked away again, flustered and annoyed, and caught the crawling of a water droplet sliding down Lincoln’s belly.

The tiny trembling of Michael’s body started all over again.

“This is really does smell good,” said Lincoln, oblivious. “And on you, well, you smell really manly. Kinda like me.”

Smirking, the older man finally turned away and Michael felt that he could breathe freely again. Lincoln went to the open plan study that he’d improvised into his room and dropped the towel without reservation.

Michael quickly turned away and Lincoln’s words followed him into his bedroom as doggedly as the sight of his brother’s cock.

“But then you always smell that way.”

Michael made his transit to work that morning wondering if that was Lincoln’s honest attempt at a compliment.  
__________

The dildo was the last straw. Michael had been hiding that away and when Lincoln brushed the back of his thigh with the soft silicon, Michael cursed. He didn’t even have to ask how his brother had found it.

“I wouldn’t have expected my straight laced, goody two shoes little brother to have a big blue fake cock in his toy box,” Lincoln teased. He ran the bulbous head down Michael’s calf and nudged Michael’s legs further apart with his knees, contradicting everything he’d said with the action.

Michael, naked and panting just a little, dropped his head back to his bed and closed his eyes. It wasn’t that he’d tried to keep the sex toy away from his brother; on the contrary, from the moment he bought it, he expected and anticipated the toy’s use during their lovemaking. But the toy’s emergence now after the weeks of flirting and teasing was not only unnecessary, as Michael was as hard as a fucking rock, but annoying because it distracted Lincoln from finishing the blowjob he’d been so attentive to before.

Lincoln ran the blue toy over both of his legs, teasing the crease of Michael’s lubed ass and dragging the length up his groin to bump against his cock and balls only to bypass them completely at the last moment. Michael ached but didn’t demand more. He knew that Lincoln was just waiting for a reason to further torture him.

Although after five minutes of running the silicon over his skin, Michael figured that even Lincoln may need a little more inspiration.

He sighed and grabbed for the toy. “Let me show you how it works.”

“I think I’ve got the basics,” Lincoln said as he batted his hands away.

Michael opened his mouth to snark but quickly closed it when Lincoln finally got to the point. His brother eased the head of the dildo into his ass and paused. Michael caught a whine in his throat. He’d been stretched briefly with Lincoln’s fingers, but not fully prepared for the burn of the wide toy. The pain ebbed and waned until with a deeper push he was engulfed in pleasure with a stroke against his prostate.

Lincoln continued to push and pause his way through fully penetrating Michael with the toy. To Michael it felt like it lasted forever. His body was so wound with tension that his fingers hurt from their desperate clench into the bedding. He was drenched in sweat, his groin a tacky mess of precome and Lincoln’s saliva, but when Michael felt the impending rush of orgasm upon him, he grabbed the base of his cock with one hand and Lincoln’s wrist in the other.

Lincoln stilled and gently stroked Michael’s lean thigh. “What do you need baby?”

Michael bit his lip hard to stave off the pang that almost took him over the edge. Then he took a deep breath through his nose and said brokenly, “It vibrates. Let me – lemme show you.”

All it took was guiding Lincoln’s thick fingers to the small panel at the end of the toy and Michael was subsumed in sensation. One pulse inside of him became two then ten, then Michael was soaring, his throat working, maybe even screaming, but he couldn’t hear a thing.

He became aware of Lincoln’s lips next. Firm but soft, they coaxed him into responding with tiny kisses that developed into strokes of tongue and minute scrapes of teeth. Michael moaned into the feeling, wanting more even though his body told him that he’d had enough.

Lincoln’s strong arms came around him and Michael helped shift them as their positions were reversed. The dildo was gone, his ass felt strangely empty, but Michael straddled Lincoln’s hips and his brother’s hard cock bounced against him.

Lincoln grumbled when Michael slowly sat back on his dick.

“As good as your toy?” Lincoln stroked his chest and throat, his gaze burning Michael up from the inside.

Michael closed his eyes at the sensation of living flesh, Lincoln, inside him and started to move, hissing, “Better. Much better.”

END


End file.
